


Dangerous Curves

by Nevermore_red



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arya Stark & Sansa Stark Have a Good Relationship, Boudoir Shoot, Boxer!Sandor, Curvy Sansa, Heres an accidental sexy picture, Neighbors, Nurse!Sansa, Oops, Rating for later chapters, Self-Esteem Issues, Sisterhood, Texting the wrong person, non graphic mentions of past abuse, oh my gosh they were neighbors, past Sansa/Harry, past Sansa/Joffrey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23969182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore_red/pseuds/Nevermore_red
Summary: Who says a size 16 can't be sexy? Well, Harry Hardying for one. Joffrey Baratheon for another. Not to mention the media and society. All of that has hurt Sansa's self esteem. Now she wants to find it again, with the help from her sisters trainer. He helps her workout, and helps her find a new place to live, which happens to be next door to him, but can he help her feel desired again?Since people have been asking, Sansa is based off of the model Bree Kish in this story. Look her up and it will help you get a visual of what I'm picturing Sansa to be like since pant size is a very ambiguous description.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 432
Kudos: 521





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A very dear friend of mine had asked for something with a plus size Sansa a long time ago. I'm so sorry it took this long! I do hope you enjoy it regardless!

[picset!](https://nevermorered.tumblr.com/post/617030686300422144/dangerous-curves-nevermorered-a-song-of-ice)

Gathering up everything left in the closet that was hers, Sansa tossed the clothes on top of the rest sitting on the bed next to the plastic storage tub she would put them in. Packing to move out wasn’t nearly as fun as moving in had been. But that had been a year ago, and she’d fancied herself in love at that time. Something she hadn’t thought she could feel after Joffrey. Before Harry, Sansa had thought she would never trust a man again, would never be able to get close to someone again. Harry was charming, though. He was witty and handsome with gorgeous blue eyes and a winning smile and that dimple in his chin. He said all the right things and eventually swept her off her feet. 

If only it had all be genuine. 

Harry’s betrayal had been more subtle than Joffrey’s. With Joffrey, the abuse had been physical, emotional, and sexual. Harry was manipulative. He convinced her all her suspicions and doubts were her being crazy. His comments about her weight gain had been made to sound like he was concerned about her self-esteem and health even though Sansa hadn’t been concerned with the extra pounds. To be truthful, at first, they had made her feel sexy. She adored her curves and had imagined herself to be more feminine with them. Harry hadn’t agreed, and eventually his comments had torn down her confidence and made her feel unworthy of being desired. He was even able to convince her at first that his infidelity was her fault. How was he supposed to be faithful to someone who didn’t even find themselves attractive? If only she would work a little harder, eat a little less, and the other women wouldn’t be an issue. 

It was the baby that changed everything. The woman he’d gotten pregnant didn’t even know Sansa existed, but Sansa couldn’t forgive him. Not when there was a living child out there that signified his betrayal. That’s what ultimately made up her mind to leave. 

“You finished with these boxes?” Arya yelled from the living room.

“Yes. They can go into the truck.” Sansa called back to her sister. 

For now, Sansa would be staying in Arya and Gendry’s spare room while she looked for her own place. Her things, the things she had brought with her to Harry’s house, would be stored in their garage until then. It wouldn’t be long. Sansa had only used a little of the money her parents had left her when they died to pay for nursing school. The rest was in savings, and her income from working in the emergency room was enough to afford a place of her own. 

Reassuring herself that she was making the right choice, Sansa quickly folded all of her clothes, even the size 16 jeans that Harry had made fun of her for having to buy. It was time to leave all this behind and start over, for herself. 

Carrying out the tub of her clothes out to her car, she went back in to do one last look over the house to make sure she got everything. When she was done, she left a note on the kitchen counter that said _Have a nice life_. It felt better than leaving nothing, even if she wanted to be a bit rude and sarcasm didn’t exactly translate into written word.   
Back outside, she found Gendry tying the rest of her things down in the bed of his truck. 

“Where’s Arya?” she asked. 

“Ran back inside.” He said, then jumped off the truck, wiping his hands on his pant legs. “Think she needed to use the bathroom.” 

“Hm.” Sansa eyed the front door suspiciously. She had a feeling Arya was doing something petty, like leaving a mess in the bathroom without flushing. Before she could go back inside to make sure she wasn’t, Arya came bounding out. 

“Ready?” she asked with a smile that Sansa narrowed her eyes at. In the end she decided to let it go.

“Yes. I’ll follow you.” 

Arya and Gendry’s house sat just outside of town. It had been a dump when they first bought it but had spent the last year doing work on it and now it was very nice. Dark and rustic, and very them. Their spare room would work fine for the time being. 

“You got everything you need?” Arya asked from the bedroom door as Sansa started to unpack her clothes. 

“I think so, yes.” She agreed. “Thank you both for your help.” 

“Yeah, well, Harry was an arse. I’m glad you left him. Also, I added a bit to that note you left him.” She said with a grin. 

“Oh, Arya.” Sansa sighed. “What did you put?” 

“Oh, you know.” She shrugged. “Just, _Not really. Fuck you._ ” 

Resolutely not smiling even though it was funny, Sansa shook her head. It could have been worse, she supposed. And it wasn’t like Harry didn’t deserve it. 

“I was wondering, though.” Sansa went on like she hadn’t heard what she said. “What’s the membership fee at your gym? I was thinking about joining and getting a personal trainer.” 

“Man, Harry really is a dick.” Arya grumbled. “Look, Sans, my gym is a training gym. It’s not like one of those 12 Gyms or whatever that offer yoga or spin classes.” 

“I know.” Sansa shrugged. “I just thought I could benefit from it. You always talk about how hard the owner is on you. I think I need that sort of accountability.” 

“I don’t know.” Arya shrugged. “I can talk to Clegane. He might be willing to do it if you pay him a little extra fee aside from the gym fees. But only if you're doing it because you want to, not because of what some insecure jackass told you.” 

“I'm doing it for me." she assured her. "I would appreciate it. Make sure he knows I’m willing to make it worth his time.” 

“I’ll ask, but don’t get your hopes up.” Arya warned her. “Clegane is an ass.” 

Sansa decided not to comment on how much adoration and respect Arya talked about the gym owner with. He probably was an ass, because Arya was an ass and they probably got on perfectly well with being horrible to each other. 

Sansa really hoped he would consider it. She was tired of feeling down about herself. Tired of looking in the mirror and not liking what she saw. She wanted to feel sexy again, to feel like she was worthy of someone’s desire. 

Hopefully this Clegane could help her with that. 


	2. Chapter 2

[picset! ](https://nevermorered.tumblr.com/post/617158161253728256/i-received-a-request-for-another-picset-for)  
  
The gym smelled funny. Not like the normal gym sweat type of smell of other places, though. It smelled like leather and Clorox and sweat. It didn’t look like any gym Sansa had ever been in, either. It reminded her of those old boxing movies Robb and Theon used to watch. It was a single big room that looked like it used to be a warehouse or something. The ceiling was high, the walls were concrete and exposed brick with huge wrought iron covered windows you couldn’t actually see out of because they were cloudy, the floor was concrete covered here and there with those foam mats. Weight lifting equipment was off to one side, a single treadmill and elliptical close by. Punching bags hung towards the back near a water cooler and the center of the room was dominated by two boxing rings. A handful of men were there, all working on the equipment or bags, but the rings were empty. It was an early Tuesday afternoon, so it wasn’t surprising that it wasn’t all that busy. 

What was surprising was the man that caught her eye as soon as she walked in and the reaction she had to him. He was huge. Well over six foot with broad shoulders and black hair that hung loose to his shoulders even though he was in a gym. He had on dark grey sweats and a shirt with the sleeves ripped out so his arms and most of his sides were bare. He had several tattoos and a delicious amount of muscles and Sansa immediately felt that sweet tug in her lower belly just looking at him. He seemed to be instructing a guy who was jumping rope faster than anyone Sansa had ever seen, but the guy caught sight of Sansa and stumbled to a stop. The muscled man barked something at him that Sansa couldn’t hear and the other man motioned to Sansa. Her heart skipped when he turned to see her. Looking for all the world like she’d interrupted an important meeting even though she was well away from them and silent, he scowled, which highlighted the scars that marred half his face and made his features even sharper, and started towards her. 

Swallowing hard, Sansa straightened up. She suddenly felt ridiculous. She was wearing jeans and an oversized shirt that made her feel like she was covering up her frump, but she had never felt more out of shape in her life. This man had to be irritated that a chubby girl like her was in his gym. 

“You need something?” he rasped, voice graveled and deep. His grey eyes scanned her face, then her body, before coming back to meet hers. 

“I’m Sansa.” She said, then cleared her throat when her voice was too silent. “Sansa Stark. My sister, Arya, told me a man named Clegane would talk with me.” 

His eyes squinted a little as he appraised her again. Sansa shifted where she stood, tugging at the bottom of her shirt and hoping it wasn’t clinging to her belly. He caught the motion, but thankfully didn’t comment. 

“That’s me.” He finally said. “And it’s Sandor. Come with me.” 

Hurriedly following his long strides towards the back of the gym, Sansa told herself not to watch his extremely well shaped bum as he walked. That wouldn’t be polite, not matter how attractive it was. In the back of the gym there was a big window next to glass door that opened to a small office and Sandor opened the door and motioned her in before following her. She couldn’t help but be thankful he left it open. She wasn’t sure her heart could take being in an enclosed space with him. There was just too much intensity to the man. 

Sitting in the old wooden rolling chair in front of the beat-up metal desk, Sansa folded her arms over her stomach and watched as Sandor pushed a stack of papers to the side and sat on the edge of the desk. He had that spread leg sprawl that exuded confidence and dominance. 

“So.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What is it you want from here?” 

“Oh.” She laughed with a blush, uncrossing her arms and motioning to her lower body. “Isn’t that obvious.” 

“No.” he said seriously. “You don’t look like a fighter. That’s what I do. I train fighters.” 

“Yes.” Sansa cleared her throat. “But you also help people get in shape. That’s what I want.” 

“Look, princess, why don’t you go on down to that corporate gym that opened up by the mall. They have yoga and Pilates. Something more your style.” 

Bristled at the comment, and annoyed by the name, Sansa got to her feet.

“I don’t want Pilates or yoga. I want to get strong, to feel good about my body again. I’m tired of hating this body I’m in. Arya said you’re the best when it comes to training. I want the best.” She sniffed. “And, please, don’t call me princess.” 

Harry had always called her princess. She hated it.

Sandor lifted his unburnt brow, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. 

“I like the fire.” He sighed. “But I’m looking here, girl, and I don’t see how I can help.” 

That felt like a slap. Was she so worthless, such a lost cause that he wasn’t even willing to try? 

“I…” her voice wavered, so she swallowed down hard. “I know I have a lot of work ahead of me. But I don’t think it’s hopeless. I’ll give you my best, I promise.” 

For a moment, Sandor just stared at her, brow pinched. Then he snorted.

“You misunderstood. I don’t think you’re hopeless. I think…” he slowly looked her over again and it was suddenly very hot in the little office. Then he locked his jaw and met her eye again. “Okay. Two days a week, one hour each day. The gym is open from six to six for me to work with fighters. I can do you at 7 after closing. You pick the days. No weekends.”

“Oh, thank you.” Sansa let out a breath. “Thank you so much. How much are the gym fees? And your fee? Is it monthly?”

“Gym fees won’t apply to you. You aren’t getting a locker or showers because those will be closed up before you come in. You’ll just be paying for my time. That’s two days a week, eight days a month, eight hours of my time. Let’s call it $100 a month.” 

That was almost double what she’d spent at the gym Harry took her to. But, then again, she hadn’t been working one on one with a personal trainer than either. 

_Oh, my goodness._ She was going to be working one on one alone with this huge hunk of a man. That made her throat go dry. She licked her lips and swallowed. Not that it mattered, she reminded herself. This guy was the epitome of fitness. He probably preferred model fit women with a body fat content close to his own. And she was just out of a serious relationship that had done a number on her self-image. She didn’t want anything with anyone right now. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy a nice view, though. 

“Deal. I work the 6a to 6p shift at the hospital, so seven should work perfectly. Let’s do Tuesdays and Thursdays. I can start this week.” 

“Alright then.” He stood up as well, offering her a large hand. “I’ll see you Thursday.” 

“Thursday it is.” She took his hand, smiling like an idiot because he was giving her a chance. 

Arya was right. This Sandor Clegane was curt and she could even see how he could be considered an ass. But Sansa had a feeling he was just what she needed right now to get back her selflove again. 


	3. Chapter 3

“We’ll start with some light cardio for a warmup.” Sandor had said, and that’s when Sansa realized he was a down low, no good, dirty, rotten liar. There was nothing ‘light’ about the pace he sat for her on the treadmill. Just two minutes in and Sansa regretted the brand-new workout leggings that she’d bought to wear because she’d read somewhere that if you had cute exersize clothes you were more apt to workout. She could feel her butt and thighs jiggling with every stride she took and Sandor was making continuous circles around the whole treadmill, which meant he could see her sizeable rear in such an unfortunate state. Hopefully her panty lines were showing too awfully bad.

Thoughts of vanity and the hope of her oversized t-shirt covering it all soon went out the window. Ten minutes in and her side was splitting, and soon after that her lungs were screaming at her to stop and let them get more oxygen. Every part of her body was begging for her to stop. But she didn’t. Sandor was there in front of the treadmill hyping her up. It wasn’t any sort of nice cheering like “you can do it” or “I believe in you”. It was more in line with threats and yelling, but it worked. She felt empowered and encouraged to keep going until he finally lowered the pace for the last five minutes for her to cool down. 

And that was just the warmup. 

“What’s your goal with this?” Sandor asked while she got some water before they went on to strength training.

“A single digit pant size.” She joked, but Sandor scowled. 

“Listen, girl, if you want my help, we need to get some things straight.” He leaned back against a complicated looking weight machine, legs crossed at the ankle and arms across his chest. “One, I’m not helping you drop sizes or numbers on a scale. That’s not what I do, and that’s some media driven bullshit anyway. What I can help you do is get strong, to build your endurance, and to be healthy. Which, by the way, has nothing to do with your pant size.” 

Sansa knew that. The logical part of her brain tried to remind her of that all the time when she looked in the mirror and compared herself to the girls on Instagram or on TV. Her waist line and thighs were no indication of her actual health, which had always been very good. That part was normally overpowered by the other nagging voices in her head, which mostly sounded like Joffrey and Harry. Girls should be small and dainty. They should be admired and look good without taking up too much space. Thighs shouldn’t touch, butts should be toned, cellulite was disgusting, and a belly shouldn’t jiggle. All her life she’d been trying to force herself into that mold. Her Tully hips had never been willing to conform. 

“You’re right.” She finally said. “But right now, I don’t feel strong. I look, what was that word Harry used…” she asked herself, trying to remember. Then she recalled with a frown. “Oh, yes. Portly.”

Sandor made a face. “Who the fuck is Harry?” 

“My ex.” 

“Well, fuck Harry.” Sandor shrugged. “He sounds like an obnoxious ass. Ignore what Harry the Arse said. Before he said that, before you realized you didn’t fit the perfect fucking female prototype of society, what did _you_ think about you? Because I can damn well assure you that I’ve never fit any expectations that society held, not walking around with a face like this. I used to hate it. I resented it and became this bitter, angry, shell of a person that just assumed everyone was just pieces of shit that judged me. Then I learned to not care what others thought, and you know, I’m good with me now. That’s all that matters.” 

“I can’t imagine anyone judging you for something you had no control over. You didn’t scar yourself on purpose. And how could they look at you, with all,” she waved a hand to indicate his entire body. “ _this_ going on and think you don’t fit the ideal male physique.” 

Sandor lifted a shoulder. “I’m too big, too mean, too hairy, and too scarred.” Then he tipped his head towards her. “And what’s your excuse? You can’t tell me guys don’t like the way you look.” 

“I’m too portly, remember?” she tried to tease, but it was a true enough statement that it didn’t come out right. Sandor snorted a scoff, then pushed off the equipment with an eye roll.

“Right.” But he said it condescendingly, like he didn’t really believe it. Maybe he didn’t. “But just so we’re clear, you’re doing this for you, not some cunt. And we’re not here to fit some pant size or mold. We’re making you stronger, building your endurance, and hopefully getting you past any preconceived notions that your body is somehow your enemy.” 

Sansa smiled. She liked the sound of that. So, she agreed and they got to work. They were working on her upper body today, he said. He introduced her to the equipment and they started off with basics. She did bicep curls, backrows, chest presses, woodchops, reverse flies, and he gauged her on a bench press to see what she could handle. For now, it was just the bar, but he didn’t mock her or make fun of her. They just did the work with what she could and he told her he would have her out lifting Arya soon. Sansa didn’t believe him, but it was the encouragement that mattered.

There were times during the workout when she got flustered. Not by the work itself or her lack of strength. It had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with him. Sansa knew he was going to have to touch her. He had to show her how to do the moves properly and sometimes that required him adjusting her stance or moving her arms or hands. What she hadn’t known, what she didn’t prepare for, was her own reaction to the touches. His hands were always warm, the skin rough and calloused. His skin was a darker shade than hers, and when he wrapped his hand around her wrist, his fingers overlapped. It caused her stomach to flip and on more than one occasion she had to take a few breaths to calm her racing heart. Thankfully Sandor had assumed it had been from the effort of working out. And maybe, she thought, _just maybe_ , she’d caught him a few times looking at her with more interest than needed for checking her posture and stance or keeping up with her reps. She quickly pushed those thoughts to the side. It was her silly brain wanting to be wanted after the whole ordeal with Harry. No need to project her own physical appreciation onto him. 

Half an hour later, her hair frayed out of her braid, sweating like a pig, and her arms and legs feeling somewhat like overcooked noodles, she headed back to Arya’s. She knew she would be hurting tomorrow, and that was going to make her next 12 hour shift uniquely hellish, but she felt good. This was going to pay off, she just knew it.   
Friday, tomorrow, was the last day of her four-day rotation and she would have three days off. Brienne had agreed to start biking with her three days a week, and they were going to start Saturday. She also had a list of houses to go look at, so things were looking up for the first time since finding out Harry was going to be a father to a child that wasn't hers. Sansa was excited to see what her future held. 


	4. Chapter 4

Even though he didn’t have any technical formal higher education, Sandor had always considered himself a smart man. He’d struggled for a long time with alcohol and anger and PTSD stemming from a traumatic childhood and young adult life, but stupidity was never an issue of his. It had taken far longer than it should, but he was able to overcome his demons with the help of therapy and medication, and boxing was no small part of that recovery. He’d built this gym from the ground up, and it was his intellect that enabled him to be successful in both running the gym and finding and building up good fighters. His intelligence was the one thing Sandor had never questioned, and never felt inferior about. 

Until now, that was. 

Taking on the little Stark bitch’s sister wasn’t stupid. It was smart. She paid him good and it was worth his free time to train her. That wasn’t the stupid part, even if Sandor knew deep down one of the main reasons he agreed was because it was impossible to look at those gorgeous blues and say no, not to mention her ass and hips here enough to make him drool. Even knowing that and still taking her on wasn’t the stupid part. The stupid part was having her do squats. He wasn’t so sure his heart could take it. 

“Am I going down far enough?” she asked, holding the position like she was sitting in a chair. Sandor was a few steps behind her and for a long second, he couldn’t respond to her. The leggings she wore left little to the imagination, and the position she was in just accentuated her curves. Gods, but he could fill his hands with that ass and still have some left over and wasn’t that exactly his thing. He’d always been an ass man, and Sansa Stark had one of the best asses he’d seen in his life. 

“Sandor?” Sansa prompted him again, this time her voice a little strained with the effort to hold her position, and she looked over her shoulder at him as her stance wavered a little. Sandor cleared his throat, put his hands on his hips, and then quickly crossed them over his chest when he realized that would just call attention to places better left ignored right now. 

“Good.” He said curtly, deciding it was best to move in front of her as she continued the series of squats. 

Again, Sandor wasn’t a stupid man, but he honestly couldn’t understand the issues she had with herself. She was shaped like those pinup models from the forties that Sandor always thought of as the epitome of femininity and sex appeal. Sure, society no longer propagated that physique as sexy, but society was fucking stupid. They also said fake butter and starving yourself were good things. But he also got how influential that could be. He’d never fit the mold of society. Hair too long, too big, too scary looking, too scarred, too emotionally damaged, and too much fucking baggage. 

But, fuck society. After years of therapy and rehab, Sandor was content with himself. And Sansa Stark was the sexiest fucking thing he’d seen in a long time.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He finally relented when her legs started shaking too badly to be able to do any more squats. They’d worked her legs and lower body for almost an hour now, and she was spent. Determined and focused, but spent. 

He followed her over to the folding chair she had sat out next to her bag and water, and grinned a little when she collapsed onto it. 

“Man.” She said, reaching for her ridiculous lemon printed water bottle. “I’m going to be walking funny tomorrow, thanks to you.” 

Sandor froze, eyes snapping to hers and he saw the moment she registered the entendre of her words. Her eyes went wide, water bottle paused halfway to her mouth, with her lips parted and cheeks even redder than they were just a second ago. 

“I…uh, that is, what I meant was…”

“Calm down, girl.” He stopped her rambling. “I knew what you meant.” 

She nodded, still blushing, and averted her eyes as she drank from her bottle. “You know.” She said as she sat the bottle on her knee. “You shouldn’t keep calling me girl. I’m not that much younger than you, and definitely not a little girl.” 

Ignoring the self-deprecating emphasis she put on ‘little’, Sandor huffed a laugh. “You’re quite a bit younger than me.” He pointed out. “But, sure. What do you want me to call you? Maybe Little Bird since you like to chirp so much?”

“I have a name, you know.” She took another long drink, then bent to put her water bottle into her bag. Picking it up, she stood and faced him. “You could just use it.” 

The name riled her up, he noticed. He was teasing her, and she was aware of it, but it wasn’t degrading. He wasn’t tearing her down with mocking nicknames like her past boyfriend had. So, Sandor grinned. 

“Sure thing, Little Bird.” He just grinned more at her glare, but there was no heat or actual anger in the look. Not with her lips fighting a smile. 

“You are a menace.” She shoved at his shoulder and Sandor let the action push him back a step even though she hadn’t pushed him hard at all. 

“That sister of yours is a menace.” He followed her to the front doors like he always did. It was late, and dark, and he made it a point to walk her to her car every evening after their training.

“True, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be one as well.” She smiled at him when he opened the door. “Or maybe you’re just a scoundrel.” 

“Now that,” he let the door close as he kept pace with her. “I’ve been called on more than one occasion.” 

“A regular heart breaker, are you?” she teased. 

“No.” he snorted. “No hearts to be breaking.”

“Right.” She laughed. “You’re a successful business owner, have a to die for body, a voice they should record and use as the GPS guide, and that dark, brooding thing going on for you, but sure.” She stopped at the door of her car and turned to him. “I’m sure you haven’t left a string of broken hearts behind you.”

He hadn’t. For too many years he was too drunk for anyone to want to get close to him, and he was too mean and volatile to let them. Women were scared of him, still continued to be scared of him, and when he did find someone willing to sleep with him it was always brief and they were the ones leaving him in a cold bed. Not that he had any desire before to keep them there, but no. No hearts had been broken because of him. 

Still, he could tease her a little. 

“Dark and brooding, huh?” he asked, leaning against the back door of her car. “I don’t brood.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Of course, you don’t.” 

“I don’t.” he repeated. “I think, not brood. Besides, aren’t you the one with the ex? I think you’re the heart breaker.”

The lighthearted teasing faded from her eyes and she pulled in on herself, tugging that ridiculously oversized shirt down before crossing her arms over her stomach. 

“It wasn’t his heart broken, I’m afraid.” She shrugged. “He found another girl with a better waistline that didn’t take up so much space.” 

“Smaller.” He said and she looked at him in confusion. “A smaller waistline, maybe. Not better. And why shouldn’t you take up space? You’re a human. You’re allowed to take up space.” 

For a long moment, Sansa just stared up at him, like she was looking for the deception, for the punchline that would mock her size.

“You’re right.” She finally said, voice a little awed like she'd just had some sort of revelation. “I am allowed to take up space.” 

“Damn right.” He agreed. “And I can promise you, Little Bird, you’ve broken hearts you didn’t even know about. That smile alone is enough to knock a guy off his feet, the rest of it just kicks his ass.”

That was too much, Sandor figured. Too personal and not professional. Especially since the girl just got out of a serious, and damaging, relationship. So, he pushed off the car before she could say anything. 

“Drive safe. Hot water for those muscles, and I’ll see you next week.” 

She nodded, a little dazed looking, and Sandor headed back into the gym while she got into her car and drove off. 

Admiring her body was one thing. He was allowed to look and enjoy the view, but he wasn’t going to act on it. Sansa wasn’t ready for anything, and Sandor had never been one for relationships. She didn’t strike him as the casual type of fling anyway. It would be another stupid decision to get close to her. He needed to keep that professional distance, that buffer, between them. 

Sandor Clegane was not a stupid man, even if this sweet, somewhat shy, brickhouse of a girl made him feel like one. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this took so long to get out. I lost my mojo for a bit, but it's back and even though this is a short chapter, I'm back on my game and will have the next up soon!

“Your butt looks good.” Sansa paused with the refrigerator door open, her hand around a bottle of juice, and looked back at Arya who was sitting at the breakfast bar. Sansa raised a brow at her and Arya just shrugged. “What? It does. How come you got all the junk in your trunk and I got stuck with Dad’s bony ass?” 

“You don’t have a bony butt.” Sansa pulled the juice out and hip checked the door shut before joining her sister for breakfast. 

“Do too.” Arya said, but didn’t sound upset about it. Just stated it like a fact. “You got all the soft curves of Mom and I got all the hard lines of Dad. Least I got some tits.” 

“They are very nice tits.” Sansa agreed with a grin, not wanting to argue. It was true, after all. Arya was every bit a Stark with the sharp features and slim build, though she was far from being skinny. She was solid and muscular. Sansa on the other hand looked nothing like most of the Starks, and everything like the Tully side of the family. All the Tully women had wide hips and were of the curvier variety. 

“Thanks. Yours are pretty good too.” She shoved some eggs in her mouth, then went on before swallowing. “Any luck on the housing front?” 

“There’s some that I’m interested in.” Sansa started in on her own plate. “Brienne is picking me up later today and we’re going to look.” 

“Yeah, how is Brienne? Still fighting the patriarch while trying to climb the ladder with the police force?” 

“You know Brienne.” Sansa grinned. “She’ll single handedly take out the patriarchy and eventually become Chief of Police before she hits 35.” 

“That’s my girl.” Arya laughed. “Hopefully Lannister doesn’t hinder that.”

“He supports her more than anyone.” 

“I meant because of his name.” Arya clarified. “It might have helped a few years ago, but that was before the whole fucked up family was exposed. Now it’ll be a burden.”

“She’ll always be a Tarth, even if they ever get married. Besides, Jaime has done pretty great things to redeem himself. I’m not sure it’ll be the burden you think it is.” 

“Maybe you’re right.” Arya conceded. “I hope at least. I still don’t like that golden bastard.” 

Sansa sighed, but decided not to argue. Some things went too deeply, and though Arya was cordial enough to Jaime, it was only for the sake of Brienne. Sansa really couldn’t fault her for that either, even if Jaime had done some pretty wonderful things in helping Sansa herself after the whole ordeal with Joffrey and his family. She figured it was all in benefit of Brienne, but it didn’t matter. Jaime was a lot of things, but in the end, he made one of her best friends happy and treated her wonderfully. That’s what mattered.

House hunting with Brienne didn’t go as well as Sansa had hoped. The whole day was miss after miss. Too expensive, unavailable, slum lords, bad neighborhoods, or any number of other things. By the end of it she was frustrated and put out. When she got to Sandor’s gym, she was looking forward to working out some of that during their session. 

“Where’s all that chipper chirping from you today?” Sandor asked once they’d finished their warm up. Sansa was already sweating, so she wiped her forehead and took a long drink of water before answering him. 

“Today didn’t go as planned, that’s all.” She capped her bottle and sat it down. 

“Yeah? How’s that?” 

“I’ve been looking for my own place.” She explained. “A friend and I spent all day hitting up places, and nothing panned out. Nothing has been panning out. I feel bad staying at Arya’s and I just want my own place after everything with Harry and…” she took a deep breath, stopping her ranting. “Sorry. I was just hoping I was going to find something today.” 

Sandor nodded, brows a bit pinched like he was thinking of something. Then he lifted a shoulder, but the nonchalance of it seemed a little forced for some reason.

“Old lady next to me is moving out.” 

Sansa perked up, curious. “She is? Will the house be available?” 

“My landlord owns that house too. He asked if I would put up fliers here at the gym, but if you want to come look at it before it goes on the market, I can set you up a meeting.” 

“That would be wonderful!” Sansa nearly jumped in excitement. “How is the house? Is it nice? I wonder if it’s even in my price range.” 

“Calm down.” He grinned at her outburst. “It’s an old bungalow type house, but it’s been well taken care of. Beric isn’t a slumlord. I assume it’s around what I pay and I can promise that’s within your pay scale. It's a two bed with a single bath. I know he redid the kitchen last year and I helped him reroof it earlier this year. Decent sized back yard, too. But there isn't a fence between it and mine.” 

“I don’t know anything about houses. I have a tendency to look at surface features and not on the actual structure. I’ll have to find a day that works with Brienne so she can come look at it with me. Do you think Beric would hold off on putting it on the market until we’re both free?” 

“I’m sure he would.” Sandor looked off to the side, reaching around to rub the back of his neck. “Or I could come with you. Lady moves out Friday. I can meet you there Saturday evening. If you want.” 

Sansa smiled. Most times Sandor seemed so confident in himself and what he was doing, especially when it came to her workouts. But, sometimes, like now, he seemed so unsure of himself. It was oddly endearing, and Sansa really didn’t need anymore reasons to be endeared with him as it were. 

“I would actually love that.” She reached out and gripped his forearm lightly. His eyes flew down to the touch, so she quickly dropped her hand. “Um.” She blushed, looking away. “I mean I would really appreciate it. Thank you.” 

Sandor didn’t say anything, just made a grunting noise in the back of his throat in acknowledgment. There was some awkward tension there that Sansa couldn’t explain, so she ignored it and Sandor seemed to as well. Instead, they carried on with their normal routine. 

Still, as much as she tried to pretend they weren’t, her fingers still tingled the rest of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

The house was cute. Old, but well taken care of and updated with lots of wildflowers in the front yard. The kitchen was beautiful with its adorable farm sink and even though it was small, the bright colors made it seem bigger. Even though Sansa was completely enamored with all the pretty details, Sandor was there to remind her of the really important things, like the structure. The roof was redone less than a year ago, the foundation was solid and there was no evidence of mold or termites or anything else that might cause issues. Sansa was so glad he was here with her, and she was even more glad that he helped her find this place.

“The back yard isn’t much.” He commented once they were standing on the back porch. He was right, the yard wasn’t much. It was small, but there was a pretty tree and the grass was freshly mowed.

“I don’t need much of a yard.” She stepped off the little porch onto the lawn. “This is perfect.”

“That’s my yard.” Sandor motioned to the right and then stepped down next to her. Sansa looked to where he’d motioned. There was no fence between the lawns so Sansa could see into his backyard perfectly. His didn’t have a tree, but there was a raised garden bed and a grill and some patio furniture next to it. Sansa wasn’t a ball player by any means, but she could easily throw a ball and hit him if he were standing at his grill and she was at her backdoor. The idea of having him so close by wasn’t at all unpleasant.

“We can host joint barbeques.” She smiled at him and Sandor huffed, hands going into his jean’s pockets. She liked him out of gym cloths. The jeans made his legs look even longer.

“I’ll cook the food if you bring the friends.” He lifted a nonchalant shoulder. “Meat I can do. Friends, not so much.”

Sansa felt a pang of sympathy for him. She reached out and squeezed his bicep, bringing his gaze down to her. He really did have the most amazing eyes.

“I can do that.” She smiled at him. “And then you can teach me how to grill and I’ll introduce you to new friends. How’s that sound?”

“Like a long shot.” He said, but he sounded like he was joking. “I’ve been told I’m an asshole.”

Dropping her hand, Sansa laughed. “Arya said as much. Everyone has a friend that’s one. You can be mine.”

“You, uh.” He pulled a hand free of his pocket and ran it over his hair. “Wanna be friends, then?”

“Oh.” Her smile dropped. “I sort of thought we already were.”

“Huh.” He looked out over the yard for a moment. “Shit. Maybe I have more friends than I realized.”

Again, Sansa laughed, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go tell Beric I want the house. Then we can be neighbors as well as besties.”

“Besties?” he questioned, following her back onto the porch. He said the word like it was something nasty. “Look, girl, I’m a fairly open-minded guy, but I’m no one’s “bestie”.”

Opening the door with a shake of her head, Sansa gave him a skeptical look. “Open-minded?”

“What?” he lifted an arm to hold the door open for her above her head, which put him very close to her. Not that they hadn’t been close before, but this wasn’t in a gym setting. “I don’t seem open-minded to you?”

Sansa swallowed hard. “Of course, you do.” She patted his chest, unable for some reason to keep from touching him. “A regular renaissance man, you are.”

Sandor rolled his eyes, lips quirking like he was fighting a grin. “That’s me.” Then he motioned for her to head into the house and Sansa did so, taking a deep breath when she turned away from him. Something about being close to him made her head swim a little.

Once they found Beric on the front porch, Sandor told them both goodbye before heading back to his own house, leaving her to sign all the paperwork with Beric. Once everything was taken care of and the security deposit and first months rent was paid, Sansa got into her car and just sat there in the driveway staring at the house, a stupid smile on her face. She’d never lived alone before. She’d moved in with Joffrey right out of high school. Once things finally ended between them, she’d enrolled in college and gotten roommates. Randa and Mya were now some of her best friends. It was from there that she moved in with Harry. This house, this adorable bungalow, would be her very first home to herself. The prospect of doing everything her way, without worrying about someone else’s style or wants, was so exciting.

The next week, between work and the gym, Sansa and Arya slowly moved everything Sansa had to the new house. Once she had everything she owned in it, it became painfully apparent she really didn’t have much of anything. Most of the furniture had been Harry’s and other than her bedroom set, the house was pretty empty.

“Let’s go to second hand stores first.” Sansa said once she’d buckled into Arya’s Jeep.

“You don’t want new stuff?” her sister asked, backing up rather fast out of Sansa’s driveway.

“Not really.” Sansa tightened her seatbelt. “Plus, I’d like to save some money.”

“Psh.” Arya jerked the Jeep into gear and they lurched forward. Sansa truly wished she’d insisted on driving. “You have plenty of that from the trust.”

“True.” Sansa agreed. “But I spent quite a lot going to school and I’d like to save what’s left for when I want to actually buy a home. You know, if I ever start a family. Which is probably some long-lost fantasy dream now.”

“Shut up.” Arya groused with a heavy eye roll.

“It’s true.” Sansa went on with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m forever doomed to be a spinster. An old crazy cat lady. You’ll have to put up with me on all the holidays and I can be the fun wine aunt to your and Gendry’s babies.”

“You are so damn dramatic.” Arya laughed. “I swear. I’d like to say you got that from mom, but I’m pretty sure dad was the drama queen between them.”

“Oh, for sure.” Sansa agreed. “But really. I do want to buy a house some day so I want to save that money for a down payment.”

“Fair enough. That’s what I did.”

“Yes, and you bought the most run down, out of the way, in need of work cabin you could find.”

“Yep.” She popped the P. “And now Gen and me can make it exactly how we want. It’s what I always wanted.”

“I know.” Sansa smiled. “And I’m so happy for you two, but I’m also so happy to be out of that spare room. Now you two can get to work on filling it with a baby that I can pretend is mine and spoil it rotten but then give it back to you when it’s bedtime.”

“You are going to be that sort of aunt, aren’t you?”

“You know it.” Sansa smiled. She was an aunt already, but after Robb died, Jeyne took little Caty and moved back to her parents. Sansa couldn’t blame her, but it was hard to be so far way from the only thing they had left of Robb. FaceTime and Amazon delivery were their only saving grace. Ever since Gendry and Arya finally decided they wanted kids someday, Sansa couldn’t wait. Being a mom was something she’d always dreamed about, but the older she got the more that dream seemed unattainable. But, she could live vicariously through her sister.

“You won’t be a crazy cat lady.” Arya said. “You’ll have, like, twenty shelter dogs and be a crazy dog lady.”

“That’s a very valid point, thank you.” Sansa giggled. “Much less pathetic than a crazy cat lady.”

“Oh, tons less.” Arya tossed her a grin. “But, uh, you’re too damn hot to stay single forever. Some super stud will one day sweep you off your feet.”

Sansa sighed, turning to look at the Jeep window. For some reason, she remembered just two days ago, at the gym, Sandor had been teaching her some kickboxing and swiped her feet out from under her. She’d very nearly slammed her head on the ground when she fell backwards, but Sandor had gone down with her, and his forearm softened the blow.


	7. Chapter 7

[Picset](https://nevermorered.tumblr.com/post/628246380858785792/dangerous-curves-nevermorered-a-song-of-ice)  
Sandor hated shopping. It was very close to the top of lists of things he despised most in the world. If he needed groceries, he did online shopping and curbside pickup. Most of his necessities could be ordered from Amazon or some other online store, but not today. Today marked two weeks since Sansa Stark had moved in next door to him. His living room windows overlooked her dinning room windows. Sansa apparently used her dinning room for many different things. She ate there, she folded laundry there, she worked there on her computer, and sometimes she danced there. Usually Sandor had an iron will, but for some damn reason he couldn’t stop himself from watching her out his windows like some sort of stalker creep.

Hence his sudden trip to the closest department store. He needed curtains, and fast.

Finding the right section was simple enough, and picking out the ones he wanted was even quicker. The color palate of his living room, and most of his house, was dark colors so the dark grey blackout curtains were perfect. And cheap compared to some of the others. Snagging a couple of packs, he headed back towards the front checkout stands.

Or, at least he thought he was headed in that direction.

Somehow, he ended up lost in outdoor goods, and then the lady’s underwear section before eventually navigating his way past the dressing rooms. There, he spotted someone familiar and pulled to a stop. Arya Stark was sitting on the bench outside the hall of dressing rooms, slouched in a reclined position with her legs crossed.

Sandor smirked. He always enjoyed giving her hell. And it wasn’t like he was in a hurry.

“So the wolf bitch actually…” he trailed off as he got closer to Arya and realized she was looking at someone who was standing in front of a three way mirror. His heart damn near stopped in his chest when he realized it was Sansa, and then it kicked into overdrive when he noticed what she was wearing.

The dress was a dark maroon and covered in rose print. The sleeves sat off her shoulders with a ruffle around her chest and the rest of it was skin tight, sculpting to her figure and showing off every curve she owned while still leaving miles of long legs visible. He was used to her in oversized shirts and cardigans. Nothing had ever fit her so well.

Her ass was sculpted by the gods, he was sure.

“Holy shit.” He heard himself saying before he could stop himself and Sansa caught his gaze in the mirror before spinning around to face him.

Arya made a scoffing noise and threw her hands up. “See!”

“Really?” Sansa asked, hands nervously fidgeting with the skirt hem.

Sandor swallowed. No taking it back now. Not like he wanted to, because if he tried to backtrack now it would probably hurt her already minimal confidence. Besides, she was smoking hot. He could admit that.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, trying to sound like it was just a casual compliment between friends. Because they were friends. Friends could appreciate how hot the other was. Right?

“I told you so!” Arya complained, pulling herself into an actually sitting position. “It looks great. You look sexy as hell.”

“I don’t know.” Sansa turned to look at the mirror again, which put that perfect ass in his field of vision again. He struggled enough with the leggings; this was just pure torture of the best kind. “This is not my style at all.”

“That was the whole point of me picking you out the dress.” Arya rolled her eyes, slumping again and tipping her head back to look at Sandor. “What are you doing here? The dog supplies are closer to the front.”

“Curtains.” He lifted up the packages, forcing his eyes away from Sansa’s ass. “I didn’t know they let wild animals into places like this.”

“Weak.” She groused. “You’re normally much wittier when you aren’t so sidelined by my sister’s ass.”

Eyes flying back up to look at Sansa, he saw her watching him in the mirror again, cheeks blazing red.

“What can I say?” he tried to play it cool. “I’ve got a thing for the color red. You looking for a dress too, or has hell not frozen over yet?”

“Hell’s still a blazin’.” Arya laughed.

“Right.” Sandor glanced back at Sansa, but this time she wasn’t looking at him, though her cheeks were still bright red. “I’m gonna head out. You girls have fun shopping.”

Both women bid him goodbye and he hurried off to pay for his curtains. With all the effort he could muster, Sandor tried not to think about how that dress fit Sansa like a glove. Or how her hips would feel cupped in his hands. Or how her ass would fill his hands.

Needless to say, he failed at that endeavor as he hung up his curtains. The next night, when she showed up at the gym, he was still struggling with it.

Sansa didn’t come in with her usual happy bounce and workout clothes. Thoughts of her dress and her figure faded as he realized just how upset she looked. Her hair was in a frayed bun, she was still wearing blue scrubs with her hospital badge clipped to the neckline. Her gaze was a bit blank, but her eyes were bloodshot.

“You ok?” he asked

“Yeah.” She smiled, but it was forced and she couldn’t hold it for long.

“You sure? You don’t look it.”

“I’m just ready to workout, is all.”

Sandor lifted a brow, propped his hands on his hips. “Yeah. That’s why you’re still wearing your scrubs then, huh?”

“What?” Sansa looked down at herself, and her shoulders fell. “Oh. I guess I forgot to change.”

“Long day?”

“Yeah, it…” she trailed off, and sniffed. “It was a rough day.”

Sandor shifted, a little uncomfortable with her clearly upset state and unsure what to do.

“We don’t have to work out.”

“No, I want to, it’s just…” she sniffed, wiping a hand across her eyes.

“You, uh, want to talk about it?” he asked, and Sansa let out a sigh, moving to the folding chairs he had sat out and dropped into one. Sandor followed and sat next to her.

“Right before my shift was up, a woman came in.” she folded her arms tightly across her chest, staring straight ahead as she spoke. “She was beaten up really bad. She needed stitches and her nose was broken. There were bruises on her neck like she’d been strangled and…and…” her voice wavered, but she swallowed and cleared her throat.

“We had to call the police, but she was begging us not to. She kept saying it was her fault, that it was an accident, that he normally wasn’t so aggressive.” Here she laughed without humor. “I mean, this poor excuse for a man beat her to a pulp, and she was defending him.”

Not knowing what else to do, Sandor reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. Sansa immediately leaned into the touch, reaching up with one of her hands to grasp his, pulling it off her shoulder and to her knee. There she gripped his fingers tightly. He couldn’t help but notice hers were freezing.

“I hate seeing women like that.” She whispered harshly. “I hate it because I get it. I understand how brainwashed a man can make you. I get hiding bruises and making excuses. I did it for years.”

Feeling a bit sick to his stomach now, enraged and also oddly hurt that someone had hurt Sansa like that, Sandor turned his hand under hers. Pushing his fingers through hers, he held her hand back.

“Days like today.” She sniffed, but kept staring at their hands. “Cases like this woman, just hit me hard. They bring back memories I’d rather not have.”

“That I get.” He said. And he did. He truly understood having memories, traumatic ones that snuck up on a person and strangled them even after years later.

Sansa looked up at him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. An urge to reach out and cup her face had him lifting his free hand, but he caught himself and dropped it to his thigh instead.

“Do you?” she asked, brows pinched a little.

“Sure.” He cleared his throat, which was suddenly tight, and then tipped his chin to the side so she could see his burns more easily. “These weren’t from an accident. Though they were the most painful thing my brother ever did to me, they weren’t the worst.”

“Oh.” She breathed and he noticed how her free hand lifted before dropping back to her own thigh. “I’m so sorry. That’s…that’s terrible.”

“It is.” He agreed. “The world is a fucked-up place, Sansa, with some really shit people. It’s the people that help, the people like you, that make it all a little less terrible.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, putting her free hand on the wrist of his hand that was holding hers. “You’re pretty helpful yourself, you know.”

Sandor huffed a laugh. “Yeah, helping you to learn how to kick someone’s ass so you don’t have to worry about being that girl in the hospital again.”

With that, he reluctantly pulled his hand free and stood up. “You can use the locker room to change. Or we can call it a night. You look tired.”

“I am.” She stood up as well. “I’ll take tonight off, and we’ll work double hard tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a deal.” He agreed. “Oh, and tonight, would you please make damn sure your blinds are shut. You know how many creeps would like to take advantage of knowing a woman is home alone?”

“Okay, okay.” She laughed. “I’ll make sure they’re closed.”

Sandor nodded, then gathered up his shit so he could follow her out to her car. And then he followed her home. He sat in his truck in his driveway until he made sure she made it in and then sent her a text to let her know her blinds still weren’t shut. Because that was something friends did. They made sure their friends were safe. They cared about them.

Just maybe not in the way Sandor found himself starting to care for Sansa. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I recently read that Bree Kish, my inspo for Sansa in this fic, is a size 16-18. To be true to this, I updated the earlier chapters to reflect this!

[Picset! ](https://nevermorered.tumblr.com/post/628278868272349184/dangerous-curves-nevermorered-a-song-of-ice)

  
“I can’t believe you were brave enough to do this.” Sansa exclaimed in awe as she went through the pictures Randa was showing her.

“Really?” Mya laughed. “You can’t believe _Myranda Royce_ was brave enough to take off her clothes for a photoshoot?”

Sansa tipped her head in acknowledgment of that. Randa wasn’t well known for her modesty, but these boudoir photos were absolutely stunning. Sexy, erotic, but somehow very tasteful. It wasn’t porn. It was art.

“You should get some done for Luthor, Mya.” Randa teased and Mya rolled her eyes so had Sansa was sure it gave her a headache.

“Luthor and I are friends.” Mya sighed. “Besides, lingerie really isn’t my thing.”

“No, I would think leather would be more your thing.” Randa shot back. “Luthor damn near pants when you’re around. He’d have a heart attack and die on the spot if you did one of these for him.”

“Shut up.” Mya reached around Sansa to push Randa who was sitting on the other side of her on the sofa.

“But, honestly, Randa, these are beautiful.”

“Thanks. I’m so glad I did them. I mean, I’ve always known I was a sexy bitch, but having photographic evidence is nice.”

“I could never pull something off like this.” Sansa said, finishing the album with a sigh.

“Sansa!” Mya shoved her now. “Shut up. You would kill in a photoshoot like this.”

“Oh, my gods, yes!” Randa added. “You should totally do it! It’s such a confidence booster, and you’ve been killing it lately with your training. Treat yo self!”

“I don’t know.” Sansa handed the photo album back to Randa. “It’s not like I have anyone to give them to.”

“Neither do I!” Randa nearly shouted. “It was for me, not someone else. I’m hanging them up in my bathroom.”

“You should, Sans.” Mya put in. “I think it would help you see just how sexy you really are.”

Sansa wasn’t sure, and at first, she completely put off the idea. But later that night Randa text her the contact info for the photography studio that had done hers. After a few days of looking on Pinterest at plus size boudoir photos, Sansa decided that she was going to do it.

She paid for three outfit changes and the hair and makeup package. Over the next month while she waited for her session, she agonized over which pieces of lingerie to buy. After countless trips to the shops and checking out online boutiques, she finally settled on her sets. The first was a sheer white bralette with matching high waisted sheer panties with the prettiest floral lace accents. The next was a simple but sexy black set, similar to the first but not sheer. To add a little something, she bought garters and thigh highs. The last was her favorite. A peachy pink lace set that complimented her fair skin so nicely.

The day of her shoot Sansa was so nervous. She showed up at Roses and Rosé with her outfits in a bag and considered backing out. When she reached the upstairs where the studio was located, Sansa was impressed. White walls, gorgeous full-length windows, a pretty bed with crisp white bedding, hardwood floors. It actually made her excited for the shoot.

Hair and makeup were a cinch. The girls all complimented her skin tone and her gorgeous hair, which they decided to leave down with soft waves. They kept her makeup simple, natural looking, with a bit of a smokey eye. 

“Sansa, love!” Margaery Tyrell, the owner and photographer, greeted her once she was finished. “Look at you! So stunning.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” Sansa smiled, overwhelmed by all the compliments. And maybe a little loosened by the two glasses of rosé she’d drank while getting her hair and makeup done.

“Alright, so, whatever outfit you want first. You can change behind there.” Margaery pointed to a room divider in the corner. Sansa decided to start with her peach set since it made her feel the best.

The photo shoot was perfect. Margaery had her laughing and feeling powerful and beautiful while she posed her. A steady stream of compliments about how hot she was, about how gorgeous she was, was enough to have Sansa feeling like some Victoria Secret model. After almost two hours, and probably hundreds of photos, they were done and Sansa changed back into her street clothes feeling for all the world like she was the hottest thing on the planet.

“Girl, you rocked that.” Margaery said once she’d changed. “I can’t wait to edit these.”

“How long will it be before I get the proofs?”

“Probably a week, maybe less, because I am so excited about these.” Margaery gushed. “Seriously, I think this might be my favorite shoot yet. Would you mind if I used your images in advertising?”

“Oh.” Sansa hedged. “I don’t know.” Strangers seeing her like this?

“No pressure!” Margaery assured her. “Truly. Thank you for letting me photograph you.”

“Thank you for doing it!” Sansa went in for a hug. “It was a blast.”

When she got home, Sansa noticed Sandor sitting on his front steps. Still high off her photo shoot, Sansa got out of her car and crossed over to his yard.

“Hey, neighbor!” she greeted. Sandor looked up at her, a grin cocked.

“I thought you worked today.” He said.

“Nope.” She leaned against the piler next to his steps. “Todays an off day.”

“Huh.” His brows pinched as he looked her over. “What’s up with you? Somethings…different.”

“Oh.” Sansa blushed, thinking of all those sexy poses she had been doing just a little while ago. And how it was him she was thinking of to get into the right headspace of seduction. “Um. I had my hair and makeup done.”

Sandor didn’t look convinced that was what he had noticed, but he didn’t press.

“Did you get your new curtains hung?” Sansa asked, trying to change the subject so she didn’t dissolve into a pile of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” He lifted his one remaining brow. “About a month ago, when I bought them.”

“Right.” She giggled. “I guess it has been that long ago.”

“How’d the date go?” he asked, and Sansa looked at him in confusion.

“What date?”

“The date you were buying that dress for.” He explained. “Figured it was for some shit like that.”

“Oh, no.” Sansa shook her head. “No dates. We were just shopping and Arya convinced me to let her pick something out for me to try on. I only agreed because she let me do the same. Believe me, seeing her in a bubble gum pink party dress was totally worth it.”

Sandor laughed. “I hope you got a picture of that.”

“Unfortunately, not.” She laughed. “That was part of the deal. No photos.”

“Seems like you got the better end. At least you looked good in yours.”

“You think?” Sansa asked, a little shyly. But then she remembered how sexy she felt earlier today. “I mean, I did sort of rock it.”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled and Sansa was stupidly pleased with his approval. But then she noticed a huge black cat coming across the porch behind Sandor. Its ear was missing a piece of it and it looked like it had been in more than one alley brawl. It sauntered up next to Sandor, bumped his elbow with its head, and then dropped down to sit next to him, those yellow eyes staring back at Sansa.

“You have a cat?” Sansa asked. She’d thought he’d be more of a dog type of person, if he were an animal person at all. For some reason, the big mean looking cat sort of suited him.

“No.” Sandor denied, but reached out and scratched the cat between the ears. It let him, but never looked away from Sansa. It was a little discomforting.

“No?” Sansa laughed. “I think you might need to tell the cat that, then.”

“I’ve tried.” He shrugged. “He keeps coming around.”

Sansa looked back onto the porch and saw a food and water bowl. “Maybe because you feed him?”

“Cats gotta eat.” He said simply and Sansa smiled.

“Does he have a name?” she knelt down, slowly reaching a hand out towards the cat. It watched her hand cautiously.

“I call him Stranger.”

Sansa shot Sandor a disapproving look, but then looked back at the cat. He leaned forward slightly, nose sniffing at her offered hand.

“He’s an ass, so if he takes a swipe at you, that’s not on me.”

Ignoring him, Sansa held her hands still for a long moment, then Stranger gave her fingers a nose bump before pulling away. She smiled. That was a win in her book.

“Surly old thing.” Sansa sat back on her heels and looked at Sandor. “I guess he takes after you.”

“Very funny.” He deadpanned and Sansa laughed before standing up straight.

“Hey, do you know anything about cars?” she asked. “When I turn the key in mine, it takes it a while before it’ll start up.”

Sandor stood, looking across to her car. “I can take a look tomorrow. Sounds like the starter might be going out.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

He didn’t say anything, just tipped his head. Sansa gave him a wave goodbye and headed back across to her lawn. When she crossed her drive, she looked back just in time to see Sandor raising his eyes. He’d been looking at her bum. Instead of feeling offended, she felt a surge of confidence.

“A picture would last longer.” She taunted and Sandor chuckled, completely unashamed that he’d been caught.

“That an offer?” he teased back and Sansa shook her head with a laugh before heading back to her house. She thought of the pictures she just had taken, and couldn’t help but wonder what his reaction would be if he ever saw one. 


End file.
